


The Mountain Eternal Dances with the River

by fannishliss



Category: Firefly/Serenity
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mercenaries, Not Underage, Porn Battle, killer girls, not really hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jayne is a big pretty simple mercenary. River is a tiny killer genius ballerina.  He gets shot. She cares. They'll be in his bunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mountain Eternal Dances with the River

**Author's Note:**

> Notes/warnings: Post BDM. River is not underage in this story. Age difference is still there, since Jayne should be at least 40 by that time. Explicit consent. No condom use (I am figuring the Companion's Guild would have developed miracle vaccines for everything!) Not really hurt comfort, but Jayne is injured and River does care. :) 
> 
>  
> 
> I love Jayne Cobb with a fierce irrational love.  I don't care that he's an amoral mercenary.  I try to stay true to that, but I love him so. (For real, I have a huge weakness for the darker character.) This story is pure fanservice to me from me.   My concern in this story was to get in Jayne's head as authentically as possible and to show why River would want him (BADLY).  Jayne Cobb is my little black dress of porn; he is so hot no matter who he is paired with.  But my Jayne OTP is River, and this is first my story written for them after so many years of quietly adoring them.  Thanks Porn Battle!

title: The Mountain Eternal Dances with the River  
Author: [](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/)**fannishliss**  
rating: explicit, nc17  
length: 3552 words  
fandom: Firefly/Serenity  
pairing: Jayne Cobb/River Tam

summary: Jayne is a big pretty simple mercenary. River is a tiny killer genius ballerina.  He gets shot. She cares. They'll be in his bunk.

For Porn Battle XV the Ides of Porn: Jayne Cobb/River Tam: Vera, dress, weapon, kiss, instinct

\------

Jayne woke up in the infirmary, head swimming, body numb.

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

“What do you remember?” Simon said casually.  “You hit your head pretty hard on the way down, so you have a concussion to worry about on top of the bullet wound.”

Jayne couldn’t feel a thing.  Simon must’ve given him the good stuff.

“We was makin’ the pickup.  Mal and Zoe was on point, li’l Cra-, uh, your mei mei was behind ‘em a ways, and I was back at the mule.  Some sorta altercation about payment, they didn’t like the weight o’ the coin, started gettin’ hot about it, but they was handlin’ it.  Then River starts edgin’ back towards me, subtle like, but that weren’t the plan, and Mal gets all antsy like, cause you know how he is about River.”

“Yes, the Captain is very protective of her. I appreciate that,” Simon said quietly.

Jayne squirmed a little, not liking to think about the shameful time Mal had had to protect River and Simon from Jayne himself. “He’s a good captain, protects his crew,” Jayne said gruffly.  “Like he oughta. Anyways, so River goes just the least bit off plan and Mal starts backin’ out and then Zoe o’ course follows his lead, and the next thing I know, there’s all manner of shoutin’ and their guns are comin out so my guns come out and then River’s running at me like I ain’t never seen — and I guess that’s when I went down.”

“So you don’t know why River ran toward you?”

“Nah,” Jayne said.  “Cra— um, likely some kinda brain thing?  She does have a mighty powerful brain.”

Simon’s cool stare dismissed Jayne’s attempt to backpedal.

“She’s resting now, but I think she ran toward you in an attempt to save you.  Why, I’m not certain.  I was just wondering if you had any insight.” This was how Simon handled his big brother duties — in the infirmary, extremely politely. Jayne would have preferred fists — he’d have had at least a fighting chance that way.

“She’s a good kid,” Jayne said, a little riled at Simon’s insinuation that he didn’t merit saving.  “She’d try and save anybody. I ain’t special.”

Simon turned back to the counter, putting away his supplies.  “Based on how upset she was that you were hurt, River doesn’t agree.”

“Huh,” Jayne said, shrugging.  It didn’t sit right with him, that little slip of a girl thinking she had to save him, regardless of her mighty brain or her unnatural skills in a fight. 

“You can go,” Simon said.  “The wound was clean, and I’ve replaced the blood you lost.  You’ll need to rest for a day or two.  And don’t try anything too taxing, because the pain meds you’re on are fairly strong.”

“Did we get the cargo?” Jayne asked. No cargo, no profit.  No profit, no fun planetside.  No planetfall, a long and boring stay laying there all alone in his bunk, waiting to heal up.

“No,” Simon answered.

“Did we lose the money?” Jayne asked a little louder.

“Yes.”

Jayne left the infirmary muttering all the curses he could muster.

Jayne had a good bunch of pinups. Those that had names and stories attached, he went by the name and stories.  Those without, he’d come up with details over time.  Some of their stories had got fairly long and complicated. It passed the time in his bunk, conversations he might have with one lady or t’other, chattin’ ‘em up in bars and such like, or playin’ with ‘em the way their stories claimed they liked.

“Su Won doesn’t really like doggy style,” Jayne heard, in a moment when a real person’s voice was not particularly welcome in his bunk, even if the voice did belong to a female.  Especially not this particular female.

“How the gorram hell did you get in here, li’l Crazy?” Jayne shouted, rearranging his covers some and bringing his hands out in public.

“The firefly loves the black, loves the girl who flies her.  The firefly hears the girl’s wishes, flies true.  Firefly unlocks when the girl asks.”

“You broke into my bunk with your brain?” Jayne said.

“Yes,” River said, after a moment.

“Why?” Jayne said.

River dropped down into the cabin, landing lightly, locking the door again after her, and perched on the end of Jayne’s bunk, like a little bird, knees pulled up under her dress.   Her hand snuck over to Jayne’s shin and rested there, light as a feather.  River looked small and defenseless, but Jayne knew very well she was neither.  Still, he was nothing to her.

“The firefly dances with the girl, but she remembers a leaf in the wind. The mountain drops its leaves.” The hand on his shin crept toward his knee. When he made no move to stop her, River unwound, scooted closer, and laid her other hand on the bullet wound that had taken him down.  “She saw rivers of red.”

Jayne frowned. Sometimes he could almost see what she was trying to say, but not always.  The rivers of red, he got that, Simon had mentioned he’d lost a lot of blood.

“You feel your crew,” River said.  “Here.” She cautiously moved her little hand clear of the bullet hole Simon had patched up.

“What of it?” Jayne said defensively.

“You sold the girl and the brother for copper. We were trouble, the money was too good.”

“I already said I’s sorry for all that,” Jayne said hotly.   It was a black spot on a good record.  Jayne had always done right by Mal, excepting that one fairly glaring error.

“We were not crew, not family.  We are crew now,” River said, staring at Jayne with her big brown eyes.

“Yeah,” Jayne said, firmly.  “You’re crew now, ‘specially since the big fight and all.”

“You thought the girl was beautiful,” River whispered.

Jayne could see River, her lithe body moving with strength and power.  She was like nothing he’d ever imagined.  Purely lethal, direct, inescapable, like a goddess or an avenging angel.

“I ain’t never seen nothing like you, girl. It’s like you’re dancing.  I seen demonstration fights, of course — Shaolin, muay thai, wushu — but you do it natural, by instinct.  Beautiful.”

Jayne felt his face heat, but Simon’s pills had done him good.  His mouth just opened up and words came pouring out.

“She was a dancer, before she shattered,” River said, looking at the floor.

“You ain’t shattered,” Jayne said.  “You’re perfect, girl.  Li’l crazy, maybe, but who ain’t, these days?”

“She is not beautiful,” River whispered.  “She is not perfect.  She is stripped, ugly, rageful Reaver-River.”

“You ain’t no gorram Reaver,” Jayne said, horrified the girl could think such a thing.  “You — you’re beautiful, and some kind of genius, and you fly the ship, and you, well, your big brother said you saved my life.”

“The deal went south-southeast,” River said.  “Chances of casualty increased to 87% likelihood after presentation of insufficient funds.  Driver of the mule becomes weakest link — take out driver, pick off rest,” River explained in a heavy Russian accent.  She shifted back to her own voice.  “River flows, right as rain, save Jayne from pain, derail the train…”

“I appreciate it,” Jayne said.  “Your brother said it won’t leave much of a scar though.  A man likes to have a little to brag over when he gets taken down.”

“The mountain topples, the river overflows, the brambles are swept away,” River sang. 

“How’d we get out of there? Kinda outnumbered.” They were almost always outnumbered, truth be told.

“She evened the odds,” River said.  Her eyes closed, her hands went out in front of her, jerking as she mimicked firing Jayne’s Vera half a dozen times.  Jayne was impressed at her stance, the way she handled the kick, even though she was just replaying a memory.

“CapnandZoe stopped her,” River said.  “Sick o’ so many dying, turn tail, fight another day.”

Jayne swore under his breath, but he did see the right of it. No good putting more lives on River’s hands than was absolutely necessary for their survival.

“She did not kill,” River whispered.  “Disabling shots only.”

“You are one amazing little girl,” Jayne whistled. He’d seen her speed and deadly accuracy, and he was damn impressed that she’d gotten so much better at getting her killer instincts under control.

“She is not a little girl,” River said softly.

Jayne scoffed.  He was on the slippery side of forty.  He’d call her like he seen her.

“She will be nineteen in sixty-eight days.”

Jayne cursed under his breath.  “Nineteen, huh? And never been kissed?” he leered.

River’s spine straightened, and she shook the hair away from her eyes.

“She will not have been kissed,” she said, her chin held high.  “She will have been kissing.”

“I ain’t hearin’ no difference,” Jayne scoffed again.

“She will demonstrate.”

Before Jayne knew it, the tiny, whipcord girl was straddling his lap, seizing his broad shoulders in her small hands, pressing herself against him.  Before he had a chance to protest, she was kissing him, smooth and deep, licking between his lips with her hot, insistent tongue, running one hand up the back of his head, carding his short hair in her fingers, and wriggling just enough to get all manner of parts of him interested in the proceedings.

“She heard tell Jayne don’t like kissin’,” River mocked, in Jayne’s Beylix accent, pulling away teasingly to make his mouth chase hers.  

“That’s whores,” Jayne gasped. “T’ain’t right to take advantage of a professional.” The pain meds were slowing down his reflexes, making him feel slow and soft. Besides, River was fast and strong, and he didn’t feel like fighting her anyway.   Only, he wasn’t sure where to put his hands.  He was not about to make any moves that might offend her (her brother and the captain did also come to mind).

“Active: she is kissing,” River said, leaning in again to recapture and skillfully ravage Jayne’s mouth, pulling little moans from him despite himself.  Her small, hot body was rubbing against him in all the right places.

“And being kissed,” Jayne argued, when he could fit it in. It did take two, after all.

Suddenly River did some rapid shift of weight and she was on her back in Jayne’s bunk, snuggled in under him, skirt hiked up around her middle. He wondered how she’d flipped under him without even twinging the bullet hole in his shoulder.

She smiled up at him, a pleasant, secret smile, while he tried to think what he should do next, a willing girl (but less than half his age) offering her crossed wrists above her head, wriggling her nether parts right where he could enjoy them most.

“Passive,” River said, smiling pretty.  “Rain falls on the mountain, washes into the river.  She is kissed,” she said, offering up her sweet, young lips.

Jayne stared down.  Any man would be a fool not to make the most of such a situation.  But he couldn’t. River Tam weren’t no whore, and Jayne Cobb hadn’t earned her.  She was Simon’s little sister, Mal’s beloved albatross, li’l Kaylee’s best friend. Nothing to Jayne — least ways not yet.

“Baobei,” Jayne said, blushing as the endearment tumbled past his lips without his say-so.

River’s lips shaped the word “please” but she didn’t speak it. Closing her eyes, she said, “Mountain glows gold in sun’s last rays, red clouds drown the blue.”

Jayne could almost make sense of her moonbrain words, almost see the picture she painted. He understood now why she hated the color blue, understood why she’d torn the Blue Sun labels and lashed out at his Blue Sun shirt (and him inside it).

“Kiss me,” she said with perfect clarity.

“It ain’t gentleman-like to refuse a lady,”  Jayne said, by way of excuse, lowering his mouth delicately to hers. He was so much bigger than her. Jayne preferred big women, strong and lusty, made along the same lines as himself.  He knew River wouldn’t break if it came to a contest — he remembered all too well the way she’d bested him at the Maidenhead — but habit held him back.

River’s small fist pounded against his good shoulder.  “Kiss me!” she demanded.

Jayne laughed.  “Look here, little one.  I’ll lay back and you can have your way with me, if’n that’s what you really want.”

River’s eyes lit up.  “It is,” she stated.

Jayne pointed at her, serious.  “You remember, I didn’t do nothing.  I didn’t make you do nothing, I didn’t ask for nothing.  This was all you.”

River grinned delightedly as Jayne gently rearranged them again, propped against his own pillows while River snuggled into his good side, finding the most comfortable place for herself to lie.

“I like it in your bunk,” River said, sounding oddly sane.  “These pictures make you happy.”

“Yeah,” Jayne said.  “They ain’t no harm.”

“Stories about sex,” River said.  “It makes you feel good.”

“Yeah,” Jayne grinned.  “That it does.”

“Meili is your favorite,” River said, pointing.

“Don’t got a favorite,” Jayne denied, though he did like the elegant look of the pseudo-Companion.  No Registered Companion would pose for dirty pictures as “Meili” had done, but she was more than good enough for the likes of Jayne.

“This girl could have been sleek, refined, swathed in silk, strings of jade and pearl.”

All of a sudden Jayne understood River perfectly.  He shivered a little, thinking of River all dressed up, a rich man’s daughter, smoother manners than Inara even, just as beautiful, indebted to no man. Jayne saw River as she should have been, brilliant Core woman, elegant, polished.

“She is broken now,” River said, the smile falling from her face.

“You ain’t broken!” Jayne said. “You ain’t what you might have been, fair enough.  But what you are, is mighty fine.”

River stared down at Jayne. She was addled, deadly, family. He’d betrayed her once and never would again.  He knew she knew all that, so he let her stare.

“The mercenary appreciates the weapon,” she said, doubt clouding her eyes.

“That ain’t it — well, it ain’t the whole story, anyhow.” Jayne said.  He found himself stroking her hair as he tried to find the right words.  “I can’t deny I like to watch you fight.  But that ain’t all you are — you’re a girl, too, pretty and sweet.   Kaylee don’t care none about weapons, and she likes you fine.”

“She does not know who she is, inside,” River said sadly.

“A man who knows himself is rich indeed,” Jayne quoted, in the tones of a scholar, and it felt good when it made River laugh.

“She wants to be a woman,” River said. “Not a weapon.”

“I like women and weapons both,” Jayne said, just stating facts.

“I am both,” River said, but in that moment, she was all girl, soft and warm in Jayne’s bunk where no real girl had ever been.

He let himself imagine, dainty-like, gently undressing her, showing her all the best ways of sexin’, imagining her pretty face contorted with pleasure, and him the lucky man getting her there.

“Not lucky,” River whispered.  “Chosen.”

Simon wouldn’t like this, not at all, Jayne thought, gently stroking River’s long, silky hair.

“Simon is a priss,” River complained.  “Don’t think about him.  Think about me.”

Jayne considered.  The Captain and Simon, neither were gonna like it.  But River had saved him — didn’t he owe her his life now? If she wanted to collect in trade, he couldn’t rightly say no, could he?

River found his hand, grasped it in her own, pulled it to her long, lean haunch.  “Touch me,” she demanded.  “You are not afraid.  Do not be cautious. Be Jayne.”

Jayne laughed.  He’d heard it before, from whores.  They liked him because he was upfront, he liked to enjoy himself, and he made sure they did too.

“Being Jayne ain’t no trick,” he said, “if’n that’s what you want.”

“The mountain eternal dances with the river,” she whispered, and her mouth found his again.  All this kissing was one thing he wasn’t used to, but he wasn’t complaining.

His hand moved along her leg of its own accord.  Every part of her was strong and lean, but at least she wasn’t bony.  She had curves in all the right places, slight, delicious curves.  His hand came to rest at her waist, and he knew his two hands could nearly span her.

He remembered trying to capture her, wrestling her in his arms.  This was so much better, even without the adrenaline of the fight.  He stroked her waist, her side as she kissed him.

“Let’s — “ he said, and before he could finish, she rolled with him, so he was lying on his good side with her back pulled snug against him. Now he had an arm around her, and could use his hand to good advantage.

“This would be a good bit easier without this bullet hole in me,” Jayne said.

“69% likelihood of a killshot without her intervention,” River said.

“Oh,” Jayne said.  “Well, uh, thanks for that.”

“Now, touch!” River said.

It was like a dream, or maybe it was the drugs.  River was so clean, so young.  She seemed untouched, though he knew she’d had it so much worse than he’d ever had. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to be fierce, he wanted to be everything at once.

She didn’t seem to care how he touched her, as long as he was touching her.  He kissed her neck, biting lightly, sucking at her ear, and she shivered and liked it.  He fondled her small, neat breasts and she strained into his hands, arching into him, moaning with desire.  Probably no one had ever touched her before.  Or if they had —

“Jayne!  Be Jayne!” she commanded, and he focused in on her pleasure.

The musky smell of her arousal filled his cabin before he got up the nerve to touch her there.  He was good and hard by now, but this wasn’t about him.  It was paying a debt, all for her.  But he liked it.  He hoped she’d want to do it again.  He wanted her to like it so she’d come back to him for more.  So far, it seemed to be working.

Finally he touched her there, where she wanted it most.  Her keening cry of ecstasy filled the cabin.

“Try to be quiet, okay?” he warned.  “We don’t want people hearing.”

River’s noises broke off, replaced by harsh breathing.  She whispered his name over and over, like a mantra. His own name pounded into his brain, her high, strained whisper, broken by passion.  This was right, he was doing right by her.

Oh, she was so hot inside, quivering and slick, all manner of heaven.  He thrust, just a little, not to get inside her, but just to get some relief.  Heat poured through him.  Holding back with River was hotter than going at it all out with most of the whores he’d been with.

“Don’t hold back,” she gasped.  “I want to fly!”

Jayne shuddered, trying to keep it together.  His head was swimming — the Doc had warned him.

He rolled onto his back, tore off his tee shirt and kicked away his boxers.  “All yours, baobei.  Whatever you want.”

River eyes widened when she saw his John Thomas and she eagerly climbed on top of him, straddling him again.

“Be careful, little girl,” Jayne warned her.  “It might hurt.”

River palmed Jayne’s cheek, shaking her head, but she didn’t say anything.  The touch of her hand made him groan with pleasure, and then he was slipping inside.  She was so slick and hot, so tight, but he met with no resistance.  She settled against him, full up.

She settled her knees to either side of his hips and began to dance, slowly lifting herself off and dropping back onto him, squeezing him tight inside, burning him up like wildfire.

“Ta ma de!” Jayne said, groaning with pleasure.

“Sh,” River said, laying a finger across his lips.  “Quiet—” she whispered.

There was no more need for words.  She danced with him inside her, and he gave her all he could, pumping up into her with his hips, letting her set the pace, slow and luxurious.

“So beautiful,” he kept repeating in his mind, “baobei, beautiful” until she said, “say it, I want to hear—“

“Baobei,” he gasped, “Beautiful!”

She caught his hands from her hips and pulled them to her, demanding.  He stroked her, gentle as he could, wanting it to last, till finally she exploded, seizing on him, twitching, not even able to move.  He grabbed her again by the hips and shoved up, two, three more times into her tight, welcoming body, and when she collapsed down into his arms, he caught her.

They lay panting together, wet and sticky.

Jayne wanted to say something nice.  “Thank you kindly,” was what he usually said to whores.

“Perfect,” he said instead, “beautiful.”

“Jayne,” she said, smiling, and he blushed, cause she meant it in a good way.

“River,” he said, and he meant it just like that.  



End file.
